


The Lamppost

by AvatarQuake



Series: Cousyfest [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: But also, Cousy RomFest 2k17, Day 3, F/M, Prompt Fic, This is very vague, but it's Felix's fault, it's his POV, outsider pov, this is so late, “I see them everyday. They always stand in the same spot. Under the lamppost."
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 20:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10601883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvatarQuake/pseuds/AvatarQuake
Summary: “I see them everyday. They always stand in the same spot, under the lamppost.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I named the narator Felix, even though he rudely never introduces himself.

“I see them everyday. They always stand in the same spot, under the lamppost. He is the one carrying the umbrella, when it rains. Sometimes. I don't understand why humans like to stand in the rain. It's wet and cold and makes everything uncomfortable. But those two are always there, at the lamppost. I could argue their pairing, but cats don't care about stuff humans do. He seems older than her, but he looks like a fool when he looks at her. Reminds me of that stray dog that comes by every time my humans eat on the porch. Rolls on his back and wiggles his tail, acting like he's still a pup. Why do dogs do that anyway? Begging for food and affection. 

There they are again. Leaning against the lamppost. I know they don't live here. I know everyone in the neighborhood. They come every evening, and spent time there, talking, hugging, looking at each other. Being generally gross. In the way my humans often are. They're not bad, I guess. And not gross in a bad way. More like embarrassing. Humans can be very embarrassing. Okay, mine aren't being publically embarrassing often, so it's a plus. I think. I don't like going out.

But I digress.

The two at the lamppost are very intriguing, nonetheless. Despite their embarrassingness. They don't live here, but the lamppost must be on their way home to stop by it every evening. I just don't understand why they need to stop here every time.

Look at them, acting all sweet and human-y.

They do this thing where they practically smother each other, which is quite impressive, how long they can go without air. I can give humans that.

But despite all the weirdness that comes with being human, these two have sort of become like favorites, you could say.

I know, at some point they won't be able to make it to the lamppost. They'll stop coming for whatever reason. They will leave as suddenly as they came. And I think I will miss them. They have become part of my routine, my neighborhood.

It's a strange concept, that. It crept up on me. I don't like admitting that. Though it can happen, humans or other creatures sneaking up on us. To a degree.

I continue watching them, as they exchange human forms of affection. There is something calming about them, their quietness. It almost lulls me to sleep. Not that they are boring, no. Though, one would think a cat like me has better things to do than watch two humans perform a public mating ritual.

I live with two humans. I know the signs. Those two are performing the mating ritual. Every. Evening. At. The. Same. Spot.

It's simultaneously calming and frustrating, really.

They probably have better places to do that, so why come here?

I am always wondering the same things about these two.

Today, though, seemed to be different. They came closer as they walked away. I got to see them clearer than usual.

He is older than her, my earlier estimation true, but you could feel his youthfulness. It's her face that draws my attention. She's younger than her human partner, but she feels older than him. It's difficult to understand, even for me. But it's there. That feeling. She also feels dangerous and the safest place on land. It's a rather confusing concept.

I wonder if her human knows.

I look at him as they walk past me.

He does, but it doesn't bother him, I can tell. He feels safe where he is, at her side.

(She definitely knows about herself, it's on the set of her shoulders, that even relaxed seem to carry a heavy weight. _I can tell._ And he knows that, too, by the way his arm is wrapped around her waist, to support her.)

I settle down better on my pillow by the window and close my eyes.

They'll be here again tomorrow.”

 


End file.
